Harry Potter in Time but He's a Stoner

He studies?!

Harry woke himself up at 1:30 in the afternoon by two mini heart attacks. The first came when he couldn't feel his very much illegal bag next to him, then he found out it was on the floor because Harry was unable to keep anything within his perimeter tidy for longer than a day. the second came when he checked the time and thought he was late for school...the term starts tomorrow. So, in conclusion, Harry was now awake and was dreading it. 

He slept in (obviously) and couldn't go back to sleep because the curtains on his room window were basically paper thin and if it wasn't for the prominant air pollution that somehow only surrounded THIS building, the sun would've been so bright in his face he would've thought he'd have risen to the light already. He wishes. He got up and realised he'd slept and stayed in these clothes for longer than 24 hours with no deodarant or change of clothes and felt disgusted with himself. So, he went into his trusty bag of endless things he bought the day before with his endless amount of money, and pulled out some indie kid shit he always wished to wear other than rags, cloaks and suits. He ended up wearing a grey band t-shirt he'd never listened to before and a colour block jumper with some blue wide leg jeans with white rimmings. He practically showered himself in sprays to hide his own disgust he was adamant people could smell from 5 miles away (you couldn't) and doused his hair in dry shampoo to keep it fluffy. 

He didn't fancy going out in pubic even after getting all dressed and tidy so he instead decided to sit at a small desk-type thing with a stool that even a cat wouldn't balance on and study his ass off from all of the 58 books he bought at Flourish and Blotts. He had a mixture of transfiguration, charms, herbology, astronomy, DADA and suprisingly potions but only so he would have something to throw in Snape and Malfoy's face when he got back to the 90s. And if you were wondering, which you probably weren't, Harry would rather die than ever pick up another History of Magic textbook in his life and would rather prolong the inevitable than willingly be the cause of his own boredom. He got a few other books that we won't go into specifics about but he read mainly on Animagus', wordless/wandless magic, dark magic, familiars and other non-interesting interesting topics that he could've thought of. 

He didn't realise how late it'd gotton until Katya was at his side whispering that he should sleep because he'd been slouched over his desk for 12 hours. With that, Harry put down his 20th book somehow and brushed the crumbs of his breif BLT sandwhich, that had randomly appeared, off his lap, changed into some nightware and face-planted passed out on his bed. 

He wished he could tell you that he slept like a baby - but that was not true. He may be in another time where none of his near-deaths or even birth was around the corner, but he was still in the wizading world and wherever the mention of magic for Harry there is always the side effects of nightmares. He would wake up clutching at his throat so often that Katya slipped out of her viv and onto the top of his pillow trailing the end of her tail down his nose and across his forehead until he was in dreamland again. Soon, Harry figured out that Katya could radiate calmness and, being his familiar, could lull him into sleep without the wakings of his terrors. Thank Merlin for that. From then on, Katya didn't leave his side through the night and in her opinion, Harry's presence was more comforting than any bed of the softest tree nook.